by Beth K. Vogt
Kendall touched Ian’s shoulder. “I had no idea. You must miss them both so much . . .”
“Yeah. But I thought . . . well, Griffin was there and I thought . . . but it was stupid.”
Why couldn’t Griffin see how much his brother needed him? How much Ian wanted a relationship with him? At sixteen, Ian belonged in a family just as much as someone like Javan did.
Javan.
Why hadn’t she thought of him and Ian before?
She leaned toward Ian. “Would you do something for me?”
“Sure thing, Dr. Kendall. You want me to walk Sully?” Ian started to get up from the couch, all ready to take the dog outside.
“No, not that. Although you can take him for a run in a minute if you want to.” Kendall paused, debating on how to present the still-new idea. “I have a friend who is adopting a little boy. His name is Javan and he’s angry—acting out a lot. Kind of like you said you did with your mom. My friend is thinking about stopping the adoption. Would you be willing to talk to her, tell her your story?”
“Sure . . . if you think it would help.”
“I do. I absolutely do, Ian.”
Now all she had to do was figure out a way to get Ian and Evie together.
So much for a fast getaway.
Griffin managed to avoid talking to Kendall earlier this morning when he dropped Ian off to work on her Jeep. But there was no sign of either of them when he drove around the back of her building a few minutes ago. Just the newly repaired Jeep, displaying Kendall’s and his brother’s workmanship. He could call Ian on his cell and have him come downstairs, but that was rude. He wanted to keep his distance from Kendall Haynes—without being a complete jerk.
Then again, kissing her in the hallway the other night—what was that? Beyond stupid. The memory of her tenderness, the comfort he found in her arms, intertwined with the passion that ignited between them the second their lips touched—all of that lingered with him. He wasn’t embarrassed when Ian discovered them; he was relieved. Without Ian’s appearance he would have kept right on kissing Kendall Haynes until one of them said stop.
With a groan, Griffin hauled himself out of the Jeep. Surely he had the guts to go knock on Kendall’s door and get his brother. Say hello. Good-bye. Leave. And restrict seeing the woman to when Ian had a doctor’s appointment.
Climbing the stairs to the loft, he gave two swift raps on the door.
“The door’s unlocked, Ian—”
Griffin watched Kendall stiffen when she saw him standing outside her loft.
“I’m here to get Ian.”
“He’s not here. He took Sully for a run.” She tucked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans that were torn at the knees. “Do you want to come in and wait for him?”
Did he want to come in? No.
“Sure.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket, striding past her. “The Jeep looks good.”
“Yep. Ian’s a quick learner. How’s his Cherokee?”
Griffin watched her perch on the arm of her couch, her bare feet swinging a few inches from the floor. “I told him that we didn’t work on his Jeep until yours was fixed. Seemed only fair.”
“He said you’re still sending him back to Florida.”
The woman shot straight.
“Yes. As soon as school gets out.”
“Griffin, I was just talking to your brother. If you heard how badly he wants a family—how much he wants to get to know you—”
“Kendall. Stop.” Why couldn’t she let this go? “There are too many years between me and my brother. And he needs to be with a real family.”
“You are his real family now, Griffin.”
“A single guy does not constitute a family. And that’s all I’m ever going to be.”
“Why? Because your sins are so much worse than everyone else’s? Because you think God operates on some sort of one-strike-and-you’re-out system? Why don’t you ask God how wide and deep his grace is, Griffin? Why don’t you see what he has waiting for you, rather than deciding that yourself?”
“Enough, Kendall. We’ve talked about this—”
Kendall gripped the arm of the couch. “I’m sorry your first marriage ended in divorce, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay single forever. You’ve made it clear that, despite kissing me the other night, you’re not interested in me—” She was veering into no-man’s-land again. “—but surely you’ll find someone—”
“Kendall, believe me, if you knew everything about me, you wouldn’t want to be involved with me.”
His words brought her off the couch.
“Really? You’re pulling the melodramatic if-you-knew-all-about-me line?” She stood with one hand on her hip, the other pointed straight at him. “We’re adults, Griffin, not teenagers in some movie about puppy love.”
“Being older means we’ve had longer to make mistakes.”
“Enough already. I had no idea you could be such a drama king, Griffin. The reality is you like your life the way it is.”
“You’re wrong.” Griffin closed the remaining space that separated them until he was mere inches from her. “I can’t have kids, Kendall.”
There. He said it.
“You can’t . . .”
“. . . have kids.” Griffin forced himself to continue looking into Kendall’s slate-gray eyes as he finished the sentence for her. He said it once, so why was it so hard to say it again?
“Is there a medical problem . . . maybe there’s something you could—”
Why wasn’t he surprised when she switched on her doctor-brain and began asking questions, trying to fix his problem?
“I had a vasectomy fourteen years ago. That’s a pretty final no to the whole can-you-have-kids question.”
He watched her eyes widen, knowing this confession hit her harder than his hallway confession about crashing a plane a few nights ago. This was personal . . . intimate . . . a choice that weighed down his past, present, and future.
“My ex-wife insisted she didn’t want kids. Ever.” A snort of laughter blew past his lips. “Ironic, isn’t it? With three kids, the woman looks like a finalist for the Mother of the Year award. Twins, even. Our marriage struggled almost from the minute we walked out of the Academy chapel. When she said, ‘No kids,’ I agreed with her. What did I know? I was twenty-four. I barely knew myself. I certainly didn’t know my wife. We lived apart more than we lived together. I thought if I agreed to have a vasectomy, it would help save our marriage. At least I could stop one of the arguments.”
Griffin closed his eyes, blocking out the barrage of questions in Kendall’s eyes. “Tracey left six months later. The divorce was final within a year. And there was one advantage to my decision. I didn’t have to worry about my choices once I was single, ya know?”
When he looked at Kendall again, she watched him, her hand at her throat as if his words stole her breath away. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. If only he could stop talking and find comfort in Kendall’s arms—the kind of comfort that would ease the ache of his confession.
“Griffin, you know vasectomies can be reversed—”
“It’s done, Kendall. Don’t you get it? I made a choice, I live with the choice. And since I’ve become a believer, I’m learning to live with the consequences of my choices.”
“What? Like some sort of penance?”
“Some of us are meant to be single. I may be new in my faith, but even I’ve learned that.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Look, I want you to understand why I can’t . . . can’t do whatever this is between us. I know you’re all about marriage and family. You’re a family physician. Your subspecialty means you almost trip over kids when you walk into your practice.”
“There is nothing between us, Griffin. You won’t let there be—”
The shrill ping of Kendall’s iPhone cut off her words. Griffin stood silent as she retrieved her cell from her satchel.
“Dr. Haynes.”
Kendall l
istened to whoever was on the other end of the phone, tilting her head to the side as if struggling to understand. “Yes, he’s my patient. Why is he in the ER?”
It was easy to see their conversation—his foolhardy admission—was over. He would wait for Ian in his car. Tell him to take Sully upstairs and then get back home. As he reached the door, Kendall called out to him.
“Griffin, wait. I have to leave. One of my kids is in the ER. Can you stay here until Ian and Sully get back? Just lock the door.” She slipped into a pair of worn-out tennis shoes and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Sully will be fine.”
“No problem.”
“Thanks. I’ve gotta go.” She hesitated for a second, as if debating whether to say something. “Thanks.”
As she backed the Jeep out of its parking space, Kendall waited to be connected with the ER physician again.
“Dr. Alvarado.”
“This is Dr. Haynes. I’m trying to get some information about my patient, Nicholas Wells. I was told he’s in the ER and that you’re taking care of him.”
“Yes, his mom brought him about an hour ago now because Nicholas was becoming lethargic, light-headed, and said he was seeing spots. She said he hadn’t been eating much the last few days and then today he started throwing up.”
Kendall took the fastest route to Memorial Hospital, trying to concentrate on the conversation as well as the traffic. “I’ve seen a viral intestinal illness going around.”
“At first we thought he might have that, or maybe a migraine. But his pulse is about thirty-five and he is in intermittent third-degree heart block.”
“What?” Kendall gripped the steering wheel, forcing herself to stay focused on the traffic even as she tried to comprehend the doctor’s information.
Dr. Alvarado continued presenting the case. “When we asked his mother about Nicholas’s history, she told us about his allergies and asthma, but denied any history of cardiac disorders. In addition to his regular inhalers and antihistamine, she mentioned they had continued to give him the new supplement she’d gotten from your office.”
“I never gave him a new supplement. Do you know the name of it?”
“The mom brought the container in with her. It’s labeled Kupu.”
Kendall’s hand shook as she shifted gears. Was this Heath’s elusive “supplement”—the one Evie was researching? Why was Nicholas taking it?
“Dr. Haynes?”
“I’m here.” She slammed the brakes as the light in front of her turned red.
“Can you tell us anything about this?”
“I-I can’t. I didn’t prescribe it. But I can get in contact with someone who knows about it.”
“Because this is an unknown substance, we’re sending this off for toxicology testing.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. I can probably get information about it long before the tox report is back. Please tell the family I’m on my way.”
“Will do.”
Kendall turned left at the next intersection and then audio-dialed Heath Parker. Even as she mentally rehearsed her questions, his voice mail came on, directing her to leave a message.
“Heath, this is Kendall. Call me as soon as you get this message. I’m on my way to Memorial. One of my patients is there. He’s having a reaction to some supplement you recommended to his parents.” A million questions swirled through her brain. “What is going on? Call me.”
Her thoughts focused on Nicholas. Eleven-year-old boy. Vomiting. Slow heart rate. Seeing spots. And some kind of supplement?
Wait a minute.
She voice-dialed the Memorial ER.
“This is Dr. Haynes. I need to speak to Dr. Alvarado again.”
“He can’t come to the phone. Your patient’s heart rate has slowed even more and Dr. Alvarado’s having to sedate him to start an external pacemaker on him.”
The nurse’s announcement left Kendall speechless. She needed to get to the ER. Now. “Tell Dr. Alvarado to order a digitalis and potassium level, if he hasn’t already. I’ll be there in five.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kendall shifted in the padded metal chair positioned near the circular wood table. Normally when she entered one of the small rooms just off the hospital ER, she was in a position of authority—the one providing answers to a family’s questions. Now she waited for a police officer to come in and ask her questions. She had plenty of time to stare at the walls, a neutral tone of yellow. Nothing too bright. The framed pastoral prints were selected . . . why? To create a sense of calm for the families who entered this room, sat at this table, and stared all sorts of this-can’t-be-happening news in the face?
At least Nicholas was stable. He was still sedated, but the external pacemaker had raised his heart rate to a near-normal level and his blood pressure had improved. Despite Kendall’s insisting she didn’t know anything about Kupu, Dr. Alvarado seemed ready to lay all the blame for the child’s problems on Kendall’s shoulders. She was thankful Jim and Jean Wells trusted her. Thank God they had a long-standing relationship that would get them through this. They knew she loved Nicholas and cared about his health.
She scanned her iPhone again. Still no return call from Heath. No text message. This, despite the fact that she’d texted and called him dozens of times in the past hour and a half. He’d call any minute now. He had to. Heath Parker was the only one with any answers.
Kendall jerked at the sound of the door opening. It didn’t help that she was about to talk with a police officer looking like anything but a professional. She still wore the torn and stained jeans and an oversized COLORADO AVALANCHE T-shirt, with the collar torn out. Her go-to summer ensemble whenever she worked on her CJ5.
No matter what she looked like, she was a competent physician. She hadn’t given Nicholas this “Kupu”-whatever-it-was. And she hadn’t known what Heath was doing. How many of Kendall’s patients had the man talked to? Evie mentioned only the Harringtons. Now the Wellses. She watched the policewoman enter the room, nod in her direction. This wasn’t an interrogation. The police were merely gathering facts.
“You’re Dr. Kendall Haynes, correct?” The officer sat across from Kendall, opening a small notepad. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face into a tight ponytail, her gray uniform shirt starched stiff. There was no hint of warmth in the woman’s dark eyes.
Not that Kendall expected a pleasant so-nice-to-meet-you chat.
“Yes, I’m Nicholas Wells’s family physician. I apologize for my clothes. I was working on—”
“How long have you been his physician?”
Okay, then. Let’s get right to it.
“Since they moved to the Springs. I think that was about five years ago. I’d have to see his records to verify that.”
“No need for that now. And Dr. Heath Parker—he’s been with your practice for how long?”
“Dr. Parker isn’t with my practice.”
The police officer tapped the notepad with her pen. “Then why is he giving medication to your patients?”
“I have no idea.” Kendall forced herself to unclench her fists. These were simple questions with simple answers. “But I am very interested in finding out the answer to that question.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t know Dr. Parker recommended this supplement to your patient?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You didn’t know he’d given your patient a course of the supplement?”
“No.” Kendall’s cell phone buzzed. “May I check this, please? It may be Dr. Parker. I’ve been trying to reach him—”
The officer nodded, sitting back and waiting. But a quick glance at her phone proved it was only her sister Bekah calling. Well, Bekah would just have to wait.
“I-I’m sorry. That was a personal call. Nothing important. What’s next?”
“Dr. Haynes, can you tell us anything about—” The officer glanced at her notepad. “—Kupu?”
“I wish I could. I’ve only heard Dr. Parker refer to some
kind of herbal treatment he came across in Africa.”
“When was this?”
Kendall paused. Her answer would sound like she was somehow involved with Heath and his future plans. But she wasn’t. And she couldn’t hide things.
“Dr. Parker invited me to attend a dinner meeting with his board one evening several weeks ago.”
“I see. So you’re part of his board, but you don’t know anything about this drug?”
“No. I’m not on the board. My relationship with Dr. Parker is purely personal. We’re dating . . .” There was nothing wrong with admitting she was dating Heath, was there?
“And you’ve dated for how long?”
“A month or so.”
“I see.”
Kendall would love to ask the officer just what she “saw.” Then again, did she really want to know?
“Can you explain to me why Dr. Parker told Mr. and Mrs. Wells they could reach him either on his cell or at your office if they had any questions?”
Kendall stood. This conversation was starting to sound like a cross-examination. “Officer, I am not on the witness stand. I’ve done nothing wrong.” She forced herself to take a deep breath, to try to sound less defensive. No need to arouse suspicion by getting up in the officer’s grill. “I’ve told you everything I know. And honestly, right now I’m here as a physician who is trying to take care of her patient. I assure you, I’m more interested in finding out the answers to all these questions than you are. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on Nicholas.”
The officer also stood, blocking the exit. “Just one more thing, Dr. Kendall.”
“Yes?”
“If you do talk with Dr. Parker, advise him to contact me as soon as possible. I have some questions for him to answer, too.”
Kendall escaped into the controlled chaos of the ER. She straightened the badge positioned on the nonexistent collar of her shirt and walked to the nurses’ station. She should have taken the time to change into scrubs. “How is Nicholas doing?”
The nurse pulled his chart, glancing at it for a quick update. “He’s resting. He’s still sedated. We’re in the process of admitting him to the pediatric ICU.”
